


a very generous offer

by clayisforgirls



Category: Tennis RPF
Genre: Established Relationship, Innuendo, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-03
Updated: 2016-02-03
Packaged: 2018-05-18 01:24:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,209
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5892736
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/clayisforgirls/pseuds/clayisforgirls
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Andy glares at him but Novak's grin is devastatingly brilliant, irresistible, and even though Andy knows it's mostly there for show he softens, "but maybe you no suck on clay in Belgrade. Maybe you suck other things instead."</p><p> </p><p>Originally posted in February 2011.</p>
            </blockquote>





	a very generous offer

**Author's Note:**

> There was a rumour floating around that Muzz might play the Djokovic Open in 2011. Inspired by a Twitter conversation about how, exactly, Novak might get Muzz to play in Belgrade.

Attempting to watch what passes for television in Australia isn't the best way to stay awake when you're jetlagged, Andy decides.

There are better ways, mostly coming in the form of Novak Djokovic and the things he can do with his tongue, except Novak's busy trying to cram all of his things into Andy's room. It's making their relationship just that little more obvious than it already is, because Novak clearly doesn't plan to use his room at all, but Andy doesn't really care anymore. Even if the press are intelligent enough to notices – which he doubts – they can go fuck themselves.

Andy's decided most of them just aren't that smart; they've had everything they need to connect the dots but they've just carried on, totally oblivious. A bit like Novak sometimes; Novak not stupid but sometimes he's completely blind to what's in front of him, especially when he's focussed on something else. Like unpacking his life into Andy's room, Novak tossing his shoes under the desk with Andy's, his clothing hanging over Andy's like it belongs there.

Midway through empting his entire suitcase onto the carpet he asks a question that throws Andy completely.

"You come play in Belgrade this year?"

"What?" Andy replies, tiredness fuzzing his brain in that special, jetlaggy way he hates. He runs a hand through his hair and opens his eyes (not that he'd noticed when they'd drifted shut); Novak's standing over the messy heap of clothing, looking at him expectantly. Like he wants an answer right now.

Andy's not sure he really understood the question and gives Novak he uses far too often: _explain slower, and in sentences_.

"In my tournament, you come and play, yes? My family, they ask if I ask you."

"I suck on clay," Andy replies; it's not really an answer but it's enough of one for him. He doesn't exactly suck, he's not _American_ and he did train in Barcelona but it's his worst surface. And he doesn't exactly enjoy washing clay out of everything for weeks afterwards.

Mostly, he doesn't want to go because fucking Novak in Serbia is never going to be a good idea; Novak has family _everywhere_ , Andy's seen that family reunion photo would put a year's prize money on none of them approving that their perfect Novak is in some weird relationship with his rival. Who happens to be a guy. Andy's not entirely sure which they'd disapprove more of. There's obvious, and then there's fucking stupid.

"This is true," Novak agrees and Andy glares at him but Novak's grin is devastatingly brilliant, irresistible, and even though Andy knows it's mostly there for show he softens, "but maybe you no suck on clay in Belgrade. Maybe you suck other things instead."

"Like your dick, yeah?" Andy says, and Novak laughs. It's barely a question, because he's known Novak for ten years and even the teenage Novak only thought of one thing. He hasn't changed, he's older but still the same, except Novak used to sleep with any girl who showed him the slightest bit of interest (and then, for years, only Jelena) but now Novak's eyes are mostly for him.

"See, you catch on already," and Novak's still grinning, abandoning the rest of his unpacking in favour of joining Andy on the bed. It dips to his right before there's a warm weight at his side, Novak leaning into him in that way he does unconsciously, whether they're in bed or on a tennis court. Rough fingers smooth over his skin before Novak kisses him softly on the mouth, trails kisses along his jaw.

If this is going to be his incentive for going to Belgrade, well, Novak knows exactly where his weak spots are. Like that spot on his collarbone, the one Novak ducks to graze his teeth along, and _fuck_ , he thinks as his hips arch into Novak's, because Novak knows exactly what that does to him. And is currently using to his advantage.

"What do I get out of it?" he asks, finally, after a whimper of protest at the loss of Novak's mouth when the Serb shifts and somehow Andy ends up pinned beneath him, a knee on either side of his hips. Novak's expression is halfway between horny and smug; on him they're both annoyingly familiar though Andy will take the first over the second any day of the week.

"Well, we give you very generous offer. I am sure there are people who are very pleased to see you," Novak says, smirking. Andy can feel exactly how _pleased_ Novak is to see him, hardness pressing against his thigh and he rocks his hips as he leans upwards, catching Novak's lower lip between his teeth. Strangled cry from the Serb as he bites down gently before Novak's hand is flat on his chest, pressing down lightly to hold him against the bed and even if Andy wanted to move, he couldn't.

"You want to show me how much?" Andy asks as Novak licks a trail across stubble and down his neck, a hand working its way into his sweatpants, and _fuck_ , if anything it'll be this that'll to convince him to go to Belgrade. The promise of Novak every night, always too eager for sex, but Andy's not going to complain about that. Because Novak can do these amazing things with his tongue, and Andy will never get bored of the blowjobs Novak gives him in the showers.

"It would be my _pleasure_ ," Novak murmurs into the crook of his neck, two seconds before he bursts into laughter. Sometimes it's tough having a boyfriend with a mental age of twelve, and Andy rolls his eyes; it's not the first time Novak's spoiled a moment and it won't be the last, except somehow he makes it almost charming with the way his eyes crinkle as he laughs. "Sorry, Andy, but-"

"Are you going to fuck me or are you going to make more jokes, because god Nole, I swear-"

"You promise to come to Belgrade?" Novak says, all hope and expectation that Andy's going to say yes, just like that, because he's about to get fucked. There's more to life than sex though, and Andy knows that even if Novak doesn't. One of them has to be the mature and reasonable one, and no matter how hard he pretends for the cameras, it's never going to be the Serb.

"I promise to think about it."

"Hmm," Novak says, almost distracted as he slides his hand underneath Andy's t-shirt, fingers tracing the ticklish spots he knows all about and Andy squirms beneath him. The breathless _oh_ that falls from Novak's lips as their hips slide together is all he needs to know that the conversation is as good as over, but as he leans in to kiss Andy again, he can't resist having the last word. "Is good for now."

Half lost, mumbled into the kiss but Andy understands. Novak will try to convince him again, and they'll end up like this, in a bed in a hotel somewhere in the world, with Novak's mouth smiling against his own and skin presses against skin, because they always do. It's who they are. And he wouldn't change it for anything.


End file.
